Sick as a Dog
by Coopereid
Summary: One-shot. Spencer gets sick right before Derek heads home to Chicago, leaving him alone. Luckily, Garcia and JJ are willing to step in and take care of him until he gets better.


Spencer curled up on his bed, whimpering. This was what hell felt like, he was almost sure of it. He could be on his way to Chicago right now with Derek, then having some of his mother's baked goods, celebrating her birthday, and more likely than not hearing embarrassing stories from Derek's childhood courtesy of his sisters. Instead, he was as sick as he could ever remember being in his life: vomiting, coughing, cramping, and running a fever. The worst part of it was the fact that Derek called him out of work before he left, which meant the team found out, which meant JJ and Garcia found out. He loved the two of them like sisters, he did, but when he was sick, they insisted on taking care of him, because they thought he wouldn't take care of himself. It was ridiculous, really, considering he was a grown man and knew how to take care of himself while sick. However, they had a different idea. He knew it was only a matter of time before one or both of them showed up and refused to leave until he was better. Groaning to himself, he wrapped an arm around Clooney, rubbing the dog's stomach and closing his eyes, hoping to get some sleep.

When there was a knock on the door he whined, burying his head in his pillow. Getting out of bed was something that definitely wasn't going to happen in the near future, considering he hurt all over. He knew that Garcia had a spare key to their place, so if it was her, she could just let herself in. if it was anybody else, he didn't give a damn and they could wait to see him until he was better. He pulled the blanket over his head and screwed his eyes shut. There was the sound of a key in the lock and he cursed to himself at the confirmation that Garcia had come over and felt the need to make him better. All he needed to get better was a lot of sleep and cold medicine: he didn't need a babysitter. When he heard two sets of footsteps and shopping bags being set down on the kitchen table, he groaned again, fixing the blanket over him so he couldn't see out of it. He wanted to kick them out and tell them to leave him alone, but he didn't have it in him. Instead, he opted to stay under his blanket and refuse to come out.

"Pen, did you pick up some soup?" JJ asked, looking through the cabinets.

Garcia nodded, taking several cans out of one of the bags. "Pretty sure I grabbed one of every kind. I mean, everyone loves chicken noodle, but I don't know what our young genius is in the mood for when he's sick."

JJ set a bowl on the counter, looking through the drawers for a can opener. "What did you tell Hotch, anyway? How did he not have a problem with two people leaving for the day when he's already down two agents?"

"I explained to him that it's quite obvious we wouldn't be able to go on a case without them, then proceeded to talk about how the young doctor never focuses on himself when sick and someone needs to do it." She grabbed the can opener JJ was holding out, opening up a can and pouring it into a bowl, sticking it in the microwave.

"What else did you bring?" she asked, motioning toward the shopping bags.

She looked through them. "Crackers, cold medicine, some movies, thermometer, bubble bath, bath salts, a heating pad, and an ice pack. I don't know what he has for supplies here, and I'm not going to let him use the excuse of 'well, I don't have it, so I guess I don't need it'."

JJ smirked, laughing to herself. "Good call. I'll go check on the patient while you get his lunch ready?"

"I think I can manage."

JJ walked into the bedroom and saw a lump under the blankets that had to be Spencer. She shook her head, sitting beside him and rubbing what she assumed was his back.

"How are you feeling, Spence?"

He whimpered, gripping the blanket tighter around him.

She sighed. "How's your fever?"

He knew they had his best interest at heart, and he also knew that no matter how much he didn't want it, he was going to have them watching him until he was better. He pushed the blanket off of him, exhaling.

She reached a hand over, resting the back of it against his forehead. Frowning, she ran a hand through his hair. "Pen's making you some soup right now. Have you eaten anything yet today?"

He swallowed, wincing and speaking softly. "I had some toast this morning, but it didn't stay in my stomach for very long."

She avoided the instinct to coddle him, even though he sounded completely miserable and could probably use it. "How about you sit up and we'll bring lunch to you, then you can attempt to sleep off whatever it is you have?"

He sighed, pushing himself up and leaning against the headboard. "Studies show that sleep deprivation attributes to a weakened immune system," he winced, clearing his throat, "and the last case, I didn't sleep until after I got home, then we had a 13 hour work day."

She frowned, pushing his hair back. "Did Derek say anything before he left?"

He nodded slightly. "'I love you and I want you to get better. I don't want to come home and see that you're still sick, so I'm sending Garcia to make you better'."

She smiled to herself. "Yeah, she kind of took that on herself anyway." She pushed herself off of the bed. "I'll be back in a minute with your soup. Do you want anything to drink?"

"Orange juice please?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Orange juice and chicken noodle soup sounds like a not-so-tasty combo." He shrugged slightly and she smiled. "One OJ and soup, coming right up."

He watched as she left and sighed, slumping against the headboard. He was definitely going to be in for a long couple of days.

JJ walked out to the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

"How's the patient?"

"He's burning up and requests orange juice with his soup." She took out the orange juice, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring it. "I told him that once he eats, he can try to sleep it off."

"Did you ask him what's going on?" Garcia asked, putting the soup and some crackers on a tray, along with his glass.

She shook her head. "No, I figured I could leave that up to you. Just go easy on him? He sounds like hell and looks worse. Don't go into that famous Penelope Garcia baby voice when he talks."

"When do I ever-" JJ gave her a look, "right, no baby voice." She picked up the tray. "Am I missing anything?"

She looked down and reached over, grabbing the thermometer off the counter and setting it on the tray. "You've got everything. Go ahead, and remember-"

"No baby voice," she sighed out, walking to the bedroom and setting the tray in front of him.

He sat up straight, clearing his throat and wincing. "Thanks," he whispered.

Grabbing the thermometer off of the tray, she held it up. "Quick reading on this and then you can eat. Deal?"

He sighed, nodding, and she put a cap on before putting it into his ear, pressing the button and humming to herself. When it beeped, she pulled it out and read it. He tried peeking over and she turned it around to show him: 101.7. Pulling the blanket tighter around himself, he shivered.

"Doing okay?"

He sniffed, coughing softly. "Cold and sore. I think it might be the flu."

She rubbed his arm. "Eat your soup and get some sleep, Boy Wonder. Later on, I'll run you a nice hot bath and maybe that'll help clear things up a bit."

"Garcia-"

She put a finger up. "Thank me later, sweetie." She patted his cheek. "JJ and I are going to be right out there on the couch if you need anything, and if you're really desperate, I'm sure your honey would love to talk to you and give you a cheering up."

He smiled slightly, nodding as she walked out.

"You'll be proud," Garcia started, sitting beside JJ on the couch. "I _didn't_ baby voice." JJ slow clapped and Garcia smirked, swatting her hands away. "Poor guy sounds horrible, though. He says he thinks it might be the flu. I _told_ him that he needed to get a flu shot this year, but of course, he doesn't listen to me. You'd think with all of those brains in his head, it would occur to him to get one."

She laughed to herself, shrugging. "You know how he is: as stubborn as the day is long."

Spencer shook his head. He could hear every word they were saying, and he'd give anything to have his voice in full form right now so he could give them a piece of his mind. The better choice seemed to be silence and eating. JJ had been right: the orange juice was an absolutely horrible combination with the soup, but he knew that orange juice usually helped him feel better, as outrageous as it sounded.

JJ checked the time and saw that it had been twenty minutes. "He's probably done with his food. I'm going to check his temperature and tell him to go down for a nap." She pushed herself off the couch. "Pause this for me?"

Garcia nodded, pausing the movie. "Go take care of our sick child."

She rolled her eyes, walking to the bedroom. Spencer was fast asleep, leaning against the headboard, his fingers in Clooney's fur. She moved the tray off of the bed, setting it on the nightstand, and did her best to maneuver him so he'd sleep a little more comfortable. When that was successful, she was extremely thankful, tucking him in. Reaching over, she scratched Clooney's head, smiling when he moved closer to Spencer. Picking up the tray, she went to the kitchen and set the bowl, spoon, and glass in the sink, and walked out to the living room, putting two thumbs up.

"You did not get him down that easy…"

She shook her head, taking her seat beside Garcia. "No, I didn't. He was passed out once I got there."

"And his fever?"

"I wasn't going to risk checking, though if you want to wake him up, feel free."

"Yeah, right." She reached for the remote, pressing play and turning the volume down.

* * *

Spencer couldn't remember falling asleep, nor could he remember curling up under the blankets. The last thing he knew, he was finishing his orange juice and soup and telling himself to push the tray aside. Now, it was just him and Clooney on the bed, the dog fast asleep beside him. He sat up, groaning and wishing he hadn't. He had only a minute to consider how he felt before he was kicking the blankets off of himself, whimpering and running to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

JJ raised an eyebrow, sitting up. "…Spence, is everything okay?" Garcia muted the TV and the two listened closely. When JJ finally caught on, she winced, getting off the couch. "I'll take this one, you take the next one?"

"That sounds perfect, and I really hope there is no next one. I love you guys and how much you see on a daily basis is astounding, and I commend you for it, but that in no way makes me emotionally ready for a person I care about… making bits."

JJ smirked, walking to the bathroom and knocking. "Spence?" Garcia walked up behind her, handing her a water bottle, going back to the living room. "Spence, I'm coming in." She opened the door and walked over, setting the water bottle beside him, rubbing his back. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head, resting his head on his arm and whimpering softly. "I think it's a stomach flu," he whispered, turning his head to face her. "All I wanted to do was go to Chicago, but no, instead I get the plague."

She pushed his hair back. "I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"

He ran a hand over his face, swallowing. "Garcia said something about a bath? I think maybe that and some tea, the peppermint one I have in the cabinet? Peppermint is known to stop the stomach spasms that lead to vomiting, and-"

"I would cup a hand over your mouth, but that's not going to happen right now. So I'm just going to say shh and tell you to go relax in your room while we run you a bath, okay?"

He nodded, reaching up and flushing the toilet, sighing. JJ helped him up and, after he drank most of his water bottle, he brushed his teeth, walking back to his room and curling up on the bed.

Garcia walked into the bathroom, turning on the bathtub and checking the water, sitting on the edge. "How's he feeling?"

"He threw some facts at me, so I'd say better," JJ said, shrugging. "He thinks the bath and tea are going to do him some good."

"Only one way to find out." Once the water reached the perfect temperature, she put in the stopper, pouring in the bubble bath. She peeked in, eyebrow raised. "Looks like Boy Wonder and Chocolate Thor have some fun – they've got a Jacuzzi tub."

"And that's none of our business. I'm going to make his tea, you all set in here?"

"Yep, just need to add the bath salts right before he gets in and it should be perfect."

JJ smiled. "Sounds great." She stretched slightly before walking out to the kitchen to make his tea.

While they were otherwise occupied, Spencer was in his room, on the phone with Derek.

"How are you feeling, Pretty Boy?"

He whimpered, running a hand over his face. "Like I was hit by a bus."

"I'll bet. You weren't sounding too good when I was packing this morning."

He groaned. "Don't remind me. It was your bright idea to feed me toast and jelly."

"How was I to know that was going to make you puke?"

"You just should've." He sighed. "Soup and crackers were a bad decision too, those just came right back up, and let me tell you, it doesn't feel too good mixed with orange juice."

Derek winced. "Yikes. At least you have people taking care of you?"

"Derek," he paused, coughing and wincing, "I don't need people to take care of me, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Strike one."

He whined. "I can take care of myself. They insist on feeding me and running me baths and making me tea. I'm sick, I'm not incapable of simple tasks."

"I know, I know. Just let them help, and when I get home? I'll find my own way to make you feel better."

He paused. "But by then, I'll be better, what are you-" he caught on, smiling to himself. "That sounds great. I have to get going, Garcia's finishing up my bath now. Send my love to Fran, okay?"

"Will do. Love you."

He smirked. "Love you too." He hung up, setting his phone on the nightstand and curling up, hoping to get a few minutes of sleep.

Garcia walked into the bedroom a few minutes later to find Spencer curled into a ball on the middle of the bed. She sighed, walking over and sitting beside him, shaking his arm lightly.

"Hey, Reid," she whispered, "I know you're tired, but there's a bath ready for you. I'm sure that would be a lot more comfortable than sleeping on top of your blankets all bunched up."

He blinked, squinting and looking around the room before sighing. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, clearing his throat.

"If you need anything from us while you're in there, just give me a call and arrange your bubbles so I'm not seeing too much of your genius."

He laughed to himself, pushing himself off of the bed and digging through his drawers, taking out a pair of sweatpants and one of Derek's t-shirts. "I'll try not to need you." He put up a finger, cupping a hand over his mouth and coughing, wincing to himself.

"…JJ's just finishing up your tea now, if you want to wait a minute."

He sat on the foot of the bed, Clooney resting his head in his lap. He smiled, petting him.

"Seems you have a little protector in Derek's absence," she said, motioning toward him.

Nodding, he scratched behind Clooney's ears. "Derek instructed him to take care of me before he left. I guess he's taking it seriously."

"I'll bet. JJ came in here to tuck you in after lunch and he growled like she was going to kill you."

"His bark is obviously worse than his bite. He's too much of a lover to hurt anybody, he's just protective," he reasoned.

JJ walked in, handing him a cup. "Peppermint tea, as requested."

He thanked her, taking it and sipping. "I really appreciate you two coming to help me, but you don't need to stay." He swallowed, wincing. "I can take care of myself and I don't want you missing work and giving up your weekend to sit around here while I'm sleeping and vomiting most of the time."

Garcia wrinkled her nose. "Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"But what about-"

"The team can't go on a case when we're down two of our best agents, therefore, we don't need to be at work," she argued, "I don't have anything else going on, so I have no problem spending my time here with you until you're better, because I'm sure your honey bun wishes he could."

"What about Henry?" he asked, turning to JJ.

"Will took him down to New Orleans for a long weekend, so I have absolutely nothing to occupy my time except getting you better."

He groaned. "But I can take care of myself-"

Garcia put up her hand. "Your definition of taking care of yourself is popping some cold medicine and curling up on your bed in the fetal position, whining like a little puppy, so no, you can't take care of yourself."

He sighed, defeated, taking another sip of his tea and setting it on his nightstand, pushing himself up and grabbing his clothes. "In that case, thank you in advance, because I know I won't want to say it later when you're both inevitably going to baby me."

JJ patted his back. "You're welcome. Now go relax."

He walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

Garcia turned to JJ. "We are _not_ letting him take care of himself."

She nodded. "Agreed."

Spencer switched on the jets in the tub before climbing in, leaning his head against the back and sighing. Part of him wished that he'd called in sick himself and just told Hotch and gave him some sort of lie to tell the two of them, that way he could be by himself and not have to deal with being babies. On the other hand, he was glad that he had people who cared enough to miss work and gave a damn about his well being. As a kid, he would always suck it up and go to school while sick, and when the weekend came, he'd take a bunch of cold medicine and will himself to get better. Now as an adult, he not only had the two of them, but when he was home, Derek would keep an extremely close eye on him and at the first time of him not feeling well, Derek would insist on pampering him until he felt better. Right now, he wished he'd gotten sick any other weekend, because all he wanted was to curl up in Derek's arms until he felt like himself again. Instead, he had to settle for Clooney curling up beside him until Derek came home on Sunday.

* * *

He didn't know how long he'd been there when there was a knock on the door.

"When's the last time you took something, sweetie?" Garcia asked.

He closed his eyes, thinking to himself. "This morning at 10."

"When you get out, I'll have some cold medicine and a glass of water waiting in the living room. I figure you might want to spend some time out of bed today. We'll even let you pick the programming and not complain about it."

He laughed softly. "Thank you. I'll be out in a few."

"Take your time, darling," she chimed, before walking to the kitchen and grabbing the cold medicine, going to the living room and sitting beside JJ. "Think he's bummed?"

"Definitely. He may like us, but we're definitely not six feet of big ol' teddy bear for him to cuddle with."

She shook her head. "It's _really_ not fair that he was able to snatch him up."

"I'm sure you'll survive."

Spencer got out of the tub a few minutes later, carefully climbing out and pulling out the stopper, drying himself off and pulling on his pajamas. He quickly ran a brush through his hair and pulled Derek's robe over his clothes, putting on his slippers and going to the living room, curling up in his armchair.

"Did it help?" JJ asked.

He nodded, pulling Derek's robe tighter around him and inhaling.

Garcia smirked. "Is that Derek's?"

"Mhm," he smiled to himself, "his shirt too."

"How does he usually take care of you?" JJ asked, curious.

"Cold medicine and cuddling," he mumbled, smiling and pulling his knees to his chest.

"Well, one out of two ain't bad," Garcia told him, setting the cold medicine on the table next to him.

He screwed the cap off, sniffing it and wrinkling his nose.

"You're not taking it because it smells good, you're taking it because it's going to make you feel better," JJ reasoned.

He exhaled, taking a sip and wincing, swallowing it. She then set down a water bottle, which he took a big sip of. "For future reference," he started, rubbing his neck and clearing his throat, "stomach flus can lead to dehydration, and what's best _isn't_ water, it's actually sports drinks to replace nutrients, weak teas, and apple juice, not orange."

"So _you_ were wrong?" JJ asked.

"Don't get too used to it."

Garcia pulled over her laptop, typing. "Okay, stomach flus…"

"…I could tell you anything you need to know-"

She put her hand up. "Save your voice. According to this, your high fever is means to take you to a doctor-" she saw him ready to interrupt, "_but_ I'm going to see how your fever develops overnight and if it doesn't go up, you can avoid that, because the word doctor not being related to 'Who' just made you shudder. How long have you been sick?"

"Sick as in _sick_ or sick as in vomiting?"

She scrunched up her nose. "The latter."

"Just since this morning."

She clicked her tongue. "Okay, so no means for concern there. No abdominal pain?"

"Other than my stomach cramping getting sick, no."

She winced again, humming to herself. "So cramping, nausea, fever, headache, and… making bits?" She avoided Spencer's eyeroll. "It's just a stomach flu."

He scoffed. "_Just_. How about you give this a try and see if you call it _just_ a stomach flu?"

She shook her head. "I'd rather not."

JJ rolled her eyes, handing the remote to Spencer. "Choose our programming, Doc."

Spencer flipped through the channels and finally landed on some Doctor Who, leaning back and curling up on the recliner.

"You're kidding me."

He eyed JJ. "You said it was my choice with no complaining, didn't you, Garcia?"

She nodded. "That I did."

Spencer smirked, pulling a blanket over himself and keeping his eyes on the TV.

"It's a fantastic episode though," Garcia said, nudging JJ's arm. "Here we have Nine and Rose, in the middle of World War II, and there's a little boy in a gas mask, asking about his mother, who Rose follows and comes up on the great and wonderful Captain Jack Harkness, who makes you wonder why you weren't watching this show earlier."

"Oh I highly doubt-" Garcia pointed to the screen and JJ raised her eyebrows, leaning forward to get a closer look, "well, hello."

Garcia turned to Spencer. "And just like that?" she snapped her fingers. "Whovian."

He smiled slightly, nodding and watching.

A while later, Garcia smirked. "What do you say, Boy Wonder? 'The Doctor Dances' is easily Nine's greatest episode, no?" When there was no response, she raised an eyebrow, turning to face him. She found him fast asleep, curled up into a tiny ball and the blanket pulled up to his neck. Smiling, she turned the volume down on the TV, hoping he'd be able to sleep off some of the misery he was feeling.

* * *

Spencer woke up several hours later to a pillow under his head and the blanket kicked off of him, as well as the robe folded beside him. He didn't open his eyes, but he heard Garcia on the phone.

"Yeah, he's asleep right now in his recliner," she said softly. "JJ's just at the store picking up some ginger ale and little things that his stomach can handle."

"Listen, Baby Girl, I really appreciate you doing this for me. It really sucked to leave him sick, but I couldn't not come home and miss the chance to see my mom."

"Don't worry about it, I understand and so does he. He's tried to kick us out a few times, saying he could take care of himself, but as you said, I didn't fall for it."

"I knew I could count on you. How's he been?"

"Sleeping, for the most part." She shifted on the couch, tucking a pillow under her arm. "He had some soup for lunch, but he lost that, and he took a hot bath and relaxed for a bit. After that he came out here, we watched some Doctor Who, and he fell asleep. He looks so cute when he's sleeping, almost childlike."

He laughed to himself. "Yeah, when he's sick he turns into a little kid, refusing to take his medicine, cuddling with Clooney, and being really clingy, though I'll assume that's only with me?"

"Oh yes, he's tried to kick us out of here on several occasions, but it's not happening until he's around a healthy 98.6 again."

"Thank you. I'm going to call back later tonight to say good night, and you can tell him that Mom wants to bake him something for when he's better, so he can think what he wants her to make for him."

She smirked. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that once he's able to stomach something." She peeked over at the chair. "I think he's waking up." She moved over on the couch, reaching out and rubbing his arm. "Sweetie, Derek's on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

He nodded slightly, clearing his throat and holding out his hand. She handed the phone to him and he swallowed, holding it to his ear. "Hey, Derek," he mumbled. "I miss you."

He could hear Derek chuckle. "I miss you too, Pretty Boy. Are JJ and Garcia doing a good job?"

"Mhm, though they're no you."

"I'll bet. Once I'm home, I promise, I'll call in for both of us Monday so we can spend the day together."

He smiled slightly. "That sounds great. From what I hear JJ's getting me food. You're going to insist on me eating, aren't you?"

"You bet, though Momma heard you're sick and is sending me back with something. I'm not going to name anything, because I'm sure the last thing you want right now is getting sick on an empty stomach."

"And for that, I thank you." He cleared his throat. "Talk to you later tonight?"

"Call me when you're about to go to bed, how's that? That way I don't wake you."

"Sounds great." He eyed Garcia, who was distracted by the TV and rested his head on the pillow, smiling. "I love you."

"Love you too, Pretty Boy."

Spencer hung up the phone, tossing it toward Garcia and sitting up, stretching.

"Did you enjoy talking to your honey?"

He nodded slightly. "But for the love of all things that exist, can we not refer to my significant other as food products while you're here?"

She gasped. "I just – I didn't – I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize that I was doing it, the nicknames just happen. I promise, from now on, he's only going to be Choc-" she shook her head, "Derek. Just Derek."

He smiled appreciatively, pulling on Derek's robe and tying it.

* * *

He heard a key in the lock a few minutes later and knew that JJ had come back. He instantly hated it for the simple fact that it meant he'd have to risk eating again. She walked inside, setting a few bags on the kitchen table, unloading them.

"We have cereal, we have applesauce, we have bread for toast, we have yogurt, we have crackers, we have gatorade, and we have ginger ale."

Spencer wrinkled his nose just at the thought. "How about nothing? That sounds fantastic."

She shook her head. "Sorry, Spence. You've got your fluids back and an empty stomach. We have to see if you can hold something down. What are you in the mood for?"

He eyed the food and sighed. "Plain cereal and yogurt."

"Coming right up, and Pen, I grabbed some stuff for us to heat up once he's asleep so we don't trigger anything."

"And for that, I thank you," Spencer said, sitting up.

JJ put everything away and walked out, handing him a bowl and a yogurt cup. "Take it slow and don't eat too much. I have to give Henry the same warning when he's sick, and I hope you can do a better job listening."

He gave a slight smile. "Plain yogurt?"

"Yeah, I wasn't going to risk it with any funky flavors, considering…"

"Thank you." He crossed his legs underneath him, moving his spoon around in the yogurt a few times before taking a bite. He motioned toward the TV. "Did you enjoy the Doctor?"

"There wasn't enough Captain Jack, but yes, I do enjoy Nine, though Ten doesn't suck either."

He eyed Garcia, who shrugged. "What? It stopped airing and I couldn't only let her know Nine, so I stuck your DVDs in."

He took another bite, reaching into the bowl and taking out a few pieces of cereal. "Who do you like better?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Ten is really entertaining, but Nine, there's something about him."

"The first doctor curse," Garcia spoke up, "everyone has a special place in their heart for their first."

He smiled to himself and set down the food a few minutes later, pulling the blanket over himself.

"Okay, Spence?"

"Yeah, just not pushing it."

Garcia went to the bedroom, grabbing the thermometer, then walked up to Spencer, putting it in his ear.

"…A bit of a warning next time?" he asked, rubbing the side of his ear.

"Oh, quit your whining," she said, pulling it out as it beeped. "Good news, we're down to 101.1!"

"That's still a considerably high fever, as a normal temperature is between 97.7 and 99.5," he explained, shifting and leaning back on the chair, pulling a blanket over himself.

"Yes, but it's telling us that what we're doing is working," JJ said, resting a pillow behind her back. "And that your fever's not getting higher, meaning doctor involvement."

He shrugged it off, eyeing the TV.

* * *

He wrapped his arms around his middle, groaning and curling himself up into a ball.

JJ looked over at him. "Everything okay over there?"

He nodded slightly, swallowing. "Yeah, I just, I don't think I should've eaten. My stomach's cramping up again."

She frowned. "If I'd known you weren't going to feel good, Spence, I wouldn't have made you-"

He put his hand up. "It's fine, I did need something in my stomach." He took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut.

"…Reid?" Garcia asked.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, pushing himself out of the chair and rushing to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

JJ winced, turning to her. "You _did_ say you'd take the next one. Think you can stomach it?"

"I won't go back on my word, though if I become a sympathy spew-er, you'll need to take care of both of us."

She got off the couch, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade from the kitchen before walking into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub and rubbing circles on Spencer's back.

He whimpered, reaching up and flushing, the other arm wrapped around the toilet. "I hate this."

"Well, I'd like you to find somebody who _enjoys_ being sick," she said, hoping to cheer him up.

He gave her a small smile, closing his eyes and resting his head on his arm.

She wet a washcloth, putting it on the back of his neck and handing him the bottle. "See if some of that helps."

He opened it and took a small sip, closing it back up and handing it to her. "Thank you."

She continued the circles on his back. "Anytime, champ." She patted his back. "All set?"

He put up a finger, taking a deep breath and coughing a few times before nodding. "All set."

She reached over, flushing again. "Go brush your teeth and lay down. Call your man, then get some sleep."

He pushed himself up, walking over to the sink and brushing his teeth. After rinsing out his mouth, he turned to her. "There's a guest room that Derek finished for when his mom or sisters come to visit, you two are more than welcome to stay in there if you don't want the couch?"

"Sounds great. Now will you please take something, call Derek, and get some sleep?"

Reaching in the medicine cabinet, he took out a few pills, swallowing them, then walked to his room, sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard. He grabbed his phone and called Derek, waiting for him to answer.

"Hey there, Pretty Boy."

He smiled to himself. "I wouldn't say 'Pretty Boy' is very accurate right now, considering just five minutes ago, I was heaving up the contents of my stomach." He wrinkled his nose. "And Garcia has a heart of gold, but she is _not_ comfortable with it at all."

"You've got that right, 187!" she called from the living room.

"Well, like it or not, you're always going to be Pretty Boy. Now, are you feeling okay otherwise?"

He laid back, patting the bed and waiting for Clooney to jump up. "As okay as I can, I guess. They're great taking care of me, but they won't let me do anything. I'm not even allowed to crack the back door open so Clooney can get out." Clooney curled up beside him and he wrapped an arm around him.

"They just want you to take it easy. I can't blame them, though they'll have to tell me their secret. Even I can't do that."

He mock laughed, running his fingers through Clooney's fur. "Very funny. My fever's gone down some and I'm hoping now that I know it is, in fact, a stomach flu, it can just pass and I can stop feeling like a truck ran over me."

"Let's hope so. Are you going to get some sleep?"

"I'm going to try anyway."

"Then I'll let you go. Call me after you get up tomorrow?"

"Okay. Send your mom my love and a happy birthday wish?"

"Already done, but I can do it again. Love you, Spencer. Feel better."

He smiled. "I'm going to try anyway," he said, repeating himself. "I love you too."

Derek hung up and he plugged his phone in to charge, lying down and closing his eyes, hoping to sleep it off.

JJ turned to the bedroom. "Is he finally down?"

"He should be anyway. How about I start our dinner while you go tuck him in?"

"That sounds like a plan." She patted Garcia's leg and got up, walking to the bedroom. Spencer was curled up in a ball with an arm on Clooney. She smiled, reaching for the blankets at the foot of the bed and carefully tucking him in, careful of Clooney. When she reached over him, Clooney started growling.

"Clooney," Spencer snapped. "No."

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

He shook his head. "It's fine. When Derek's not around, he gets protective."

She smiled slightly. "Protecting the alpha."

He nodded. "If you two are going to be cooking, can you please just close my bedroom door first? I'm really not fond of vomiting every few hours."

"I can handle that." She ran her fingers through his hair for a few minutes and when she finally saw him doze off, she carefully got off of the bed, walking out and closing the door behind her.

* * *

"Is he actually asleep?" Garcia asked, putting a slice of pizza on her plate.

She nodded. "I made sure of it. He's out cold and Clooney's in there protecting him. That furry one tried snapping at me for tucking him in."

"Yeah, he's protective. Do you think maybe this is a 24 hour thing?"

She shrugged, taking a bite of her pizza. "It could be? If it is, he should feel a lot better tomorrow morning, and maybe actually eat something without puking it up ten minutes later."

Garcia wrinkled her nose. "While we're eating can we _not_ talk about that?"

"Right, sorry." She opened the fridge, taking out two cans of seltzer, holding one out to her. "If we're lucky, he's going to sleep through the night and then some without getting sick again, but when he gets up? He's going to be downright ravenous."

"Then if that's the case? I'll be happy to make him anything he can keep down."

JJ woke up to the sound of someone in the bathroom. Sighing, she got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, only to have the door open and have Garcia walk out. She breathed a sigh of relief, looking up at her.

"…What?"

"Thank you. I thought you were Spence, and that we'd be in for another day of it."

She looked at her, confused. "…You're welcome?"

"More sleep?" she asked, pointing to the guest room.

"That? I definitely won't turn down."

She patted Garcia's back, the two of them walking back to the guest room to get some more sleep.

They woke up the following morning to Clooney whining and pawing at the bedroom door. JJ got out of bed, cracking Spencer's door and walking to the living room, opening the back door so he could run out. Meanwhile, Garcia walked out to the kitchen, turning on the coffee and tea for the two of them. Once she let Clooney back in, JJ sat at the kitchen table and Garcia set two mugs on the table, sitting across from her.

Garcia held hers up. "To healing the genius."

She smiled, picking up her own mug and clinking it against Garcia's, taking a sip. "Think he's sleeping it off?"

"I didn't hear him up at all last night, and the only time you were up was when you followed me to the bathroom… should I go check on him?"

"If he wakes up, much like a newborn baby, he's _your_ responsibility."

Garcia mimicked her, taking another sip of her tea and getting up. She tiptoed over to his bedroom, pushing the door open and glancing inside to find him still curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Relieved, she left the door open for Clooney to run in and walked back to the kitchen. "Still sleeping like a baby," she said softly, picking up her tea and drinking.

JJ held up crossed fingers. "Let's hope it stays that way."

A while later, Garcia's phone started ringing. She quickly answered it, hoping the ringtone didn't wake Spencer up.

"Hello?"

"What, Baby Girl, no witty greeting? I'm disappointed."

She laughed. "I'm sorry, hot stuff, how about I show you a good morning?"

"That's better."

"I thought so." She smiled. "I take it you're not calling about me?"

"Sorry, sweetness. For once, everything is not all about you." He ignored her scoff and continued. "How's he doing? He told me he'd call when he woke up, but I'm guessing he forgot or something-"

"Oh, darling, he said he'd call you when he wakes up, and I'm sure he will."

He paused. "_Will_?" He checked the clock. "It's 11:48 there. Did he not go down after I finished talking to him last night?"

"Believe me, he went down. He's been out like a light since then. My theory is that he's sleeping off this bug, and hopefully, it's a 24-hour thing, so when you get back tomorrow, you two can have your own little fun."

He chuckled. "Yeah, maybe. Listen, when he does finally wake up and grace you with his presence, can you have him call me?"

"That I can take care of. Enjoy your family day, Chocolate Thor. We'll hear from you soon."

"Bye, you two."

She hung up. "And he's just as surprised as we are that he's _still_ asleep."

"Well, yeah. Derek wakes up and goes to the gym, probably puts on the coffee, and he wakes up as soon as the coffee's ready."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

* * *

Spencer blinked, taking in his surroundings. He'd remembered falling asleep the night before considerably early, but he wasn't sure if he'd slept in or not. He sat up in bed, stretching, and was glad to find that his stomach no longer hurt. Pushing the blankets aside, he patted Clooney to jump off the bed, which he quickly did, following him.

"Did you hear that?" JJ asked, muting the TV.

"What?"

"…I think Spence is finally up."

Garcia checked the time on the clock, eyebrows raised. "It's about damn time, it's past noon."

She got up. "I think I'm going to make him some lunch."

She gave her a thumbs up, flipping through the channels idly.

Spencer walked out of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair and going to the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," JJ said.

He raised an eyebrow. "…Don't you mean good morning?"

"I would if it actually _were_ morning." She took a knife out of the drawer to make his peanut butter sandwich. "But you slept in until the late time of," she eyed the clock on the microwave, "12:16. Bravo."

He opened a water bottle, taking a sip. "…Wow."

"I know, over twelve hours. We were going to go in there and try waking you, just to be sure you weren't dead," Garcia said, walking into the kitchen behind him. "How are you feeling?" she asked, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Better," he admitted, leaning against the counter and eyeing JJ. "…Is that for me?"

"You bet." She held out the plate to him. "You must be starving."

He nodded, tearing off a piece of the sandwich and eating it.

Garcia reached for the thermometer, putting it in Spencer's ear and waiting.

"Still no warning?" he asked, mouth full of food.

"I promise, next time. And don't talk with your mouth full."

He blushed slightly and when the thermometer beeped, he looked at her. "Well?"

"Lady and gentleman," she started before turning the thermometer around to face them. "We have a 99.7. Not quite normal, but not quite a fever either." She eyed Spencer. "If you can keep that down, I'll deem you healthy, deal?"

He nodded. "Deal."

Not only did Spencer eat his sandwich, but surprising all three of them, he ate several other things, including cereal, yogurt, and fruit. He called Derek shortly after eating, confirming that he did, in fact, sleep past noon for the first time in as long as he could remember, and promising that he'd call him back later. They all sat in the living room, watching more Doctor Who. Spencer took it as a good sign when he was able to stay awake during it, and had no desire to sleep at all. He was also pleasantly surprised when he didn't feel sick or nauseous at all. They made it through a few episodes before JJ turned to face him.

"Are you feeling okay over there, Spence?"

He nodded. "Feeling fine."

Garcia looked up at the ceiling. "_Thank you_, whatever deities may be." She then looked at Spencer. "Sweetie, I love you, and I'm glad I could take care of you, but I do not handle stomach flus on other people well. Not that I handle them on myself, but seeing people I love hurting and not being able to do anything just sucks."

He smiled appreciatively. "Well, thank you for taking care of me?" he offered.

"You are ever so welcome." She pointed to the TV. "Want to get in a few more episodes before the two of us get out of your hair, or do you want the house to yourself?"

"For you two sacrificing a work day and part of your Saturday, the least I could do is let you stay for a while, maybe order you dinner?"

JJ smiled. "I don't object to that." She reached over, turning up the volume.

* * *

A few hours later, Spencer called and ordered dinner for them to be delivered, only getting himself a small pasta dish, just in case. They sat in the kitchen, eating their food.

"Nothing funky going on?" Garcia asked, twirling her pasta on her fork.

He shook his head. "I definitely believe it was a 24-hour bug, and to be honest, I could survive the rest of my life without having it again."

"That makes two of us," JJ mumbled, chewing. "In a little bit, Pen and I are going to head out, unless you want us to stick around?"

He shrugged. "I think I need a night with just Clooney and I. Clean up the house a bit-" he looked around, eyebrow raised, "or just relaxing, considering you two already cleaned the house for me."

Garcia shrugged. "Guilty. I had to find _something_ to occupy my time while you were sleeping the day away and JJ was making horrible television programming choices."

JJ rolled her eyes. "Just because my shows don't air on BBC it doesn't make them bad."

Spencer smirked. "Garcia's very loyal to her programming, it's going to take a while for her to warm up to anything that isn't BBC, sci-fi, or involving superheroes."

"What can I say?" Garcia started. "I like what I like."

After Spencer cleaned up, Garcia and JJ went to the guest room, packing up their bags.

"Thank you both," Spencer started, leaning against the doorframe. "Derek really appreciates what you did for me, and so do I. As much as I hate to admit it? You're both right, and I'm horrible at taking care of myself."

JJ smiled, zipping up her go-bag and putting it over her shoulder. "I'm glad we could help. And now I can say that Spencer Reid does, in fact, own pajamas, and doesn't just live in button-downs, ties, and different colored khaki pants."

He mock laughed.

"But really," she walked over, pulling him into a hug and patting his back, "I'm happy that you're feeling better. If you need to talk and don't want to bother Derek, my phone will be on."

He smiled. "Thanks."

Garcia zipped up her own bag, nudging JJ out of the way playfully. "My turn." She wrapped her arms around Spencer, rubbing his back. "Keep feeling better, 187. If you feel even the teeniest, tiniest bit sick again, call me, and I'll be right back here."

"Noted." He hugged her, then walked the two of them out, waiting for them to leave before closing the door and locking it behind him. He turned to Clooney. "Just the two of us again, buddy." Walking over, he sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him for Clooney to join him.

* * *

Before going to bed that night, Spencer let out Clooney and when he let him back in, curled up on the bed and grabbed his phone. He called Derek, leaning his head on the pillow and pulling the blankets over himself.

"Hey there, Pretty Boy."

He smiled to himself, petting Clooney. "Hey yourself. How was your mom's birthday?"

"She missed you," he told him, "and my sisters had stories they wanted to share, so they ended up taking my phone and getting your number so they can tell you soon instead of waiting on it."

He laughed. "Well, I'm glad something good came from all of this. What about your mom?"

"She sent well wishes your way and wanted you to get better soon, because I'm planning another trip later this year and she wants you to be there. She also remembered that you enjoyed her lemon bars, so she's sending me home with some of them."

"Those sound _delicious_."

"So I take it you're all good?"

He shrugged. "Not _all_ good, but I can actually eat and not vomit ten minutes later. I ended up eating anything and everything I could for lunch, and then a small pasta dish for dinner – I treated Garcia and JJ to dinner for all of their help. Just one thing?"

"What's that?"

"Next time you're sick? You're getting the Garcia and JJ treatment. They may have your best interest at heart, but they will smother you, and you just have to deal with it."

Derek chuckled. "I think I can handle that. Get some sleep and I'll see you when I get home."

"See you then. Love you." He hung up, plugging his phone in and sighing contentedly.

The next morning, Derek's flight got in early, and he went right home. After putting Spencer's lemon bars in the fridge and dealing with the very excited Clooney, he tiptoed into the bedroom and found Spencer still asleep. He leaned down, kissing his forehead, pushing his hair back. Spencer took a deep breath, blinking and looking up at him, smiling to himself.

"You're home," he said softly, resting a hand on the back of his neck.

Derek leaned down, kissing him softly. When Spencer instantly responded, he smiled, pulling back. "I missed you too." He kicked off his shoes, climbing on the bed beside him and wrapping his arms around the smaller man.

Spencer instinctively moved closer, resting his head on Derek's chest and wrapping an arm around his middle. "Next time I'm sick? You're not allowed to leave me. I missed this cuddling."

Derek kissed the top of his head. "I promise."

Spencer snuggled into his side. "I'm still not going in tomorrow."

Derek raised an eyebrow, looking down at him and pressing a hand on his forehead. "Sure you're not still sick?"

Spencer swatted his hand away. "I'm fine, I just missed my boyfriend the past couple of days."

He smirked. "Then I am more than fine with this."

He smiled, satisfied with himself. The stomach flu may have gotten the best of him, but he was going to spend the next day forgetting that he ever had it.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I (unfortunately) own nothing!


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